Jewel
by Ariel32
Summary: A Cinderella story that neither of them could have predicted would come true. AU NejiTen.


Hi all. I'm here with a NejiTen piece, an AU set to the story of Cinderella. It'll be a two part story, this being the first half. I'm pretty excited for this one! : Dropped it for a while and then came back to it. If things are confusing, bear with me. Some more of the story will be explained in part two.

Also, this fic is divided into segments, but each segment _does not_ directly follow the segment in front of it. There is an organized chaos to the order of this story. Hee. See if you can figure it out?

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything found in Naruto.

* * *

_(__Village girl,_ they say. _Not much money. Don't know how she managed to get here.__)_

She can hear them, their voices hovering at the edges of her mind. Mouths hidden behind elegantly splayed white-gloved fingers, red lips moving in whispers and murmurs veiled by open fans. She moves through them and hears their words chasing the faint rustle of silk. _(She's come here for the prince. The prince? She should try somewhere else. With her own kind. A village _boy_, maybe…)_

She half wants to laugh. She wants to raise an eyebrow at the nearest pair of gossiping ladies and watch them stare back like a deer caught in torchlight, blinded and temporarily frozen. She wants to watch them drop their gazes and move away, muttering under their breath. They think they know everything. She's here because she wants to be, not because of a desperate ploy to win over the prince's heart and inherit half the kingdom.

Frankly, the very thought of it makes her want to laugh.

She mounts the steps leading up to the double doors guarding the palace entrance with both grace and ease, feeling the steely weight of accusing eyes glued to her back. Dark hair is bound in two buns at the back of her head, and loose strands trail her face and frame brown eyes. She's pretty, in her own way. Pretty and free and careless and graceful. She can almost feel the gazes burning holes in the back of her scarlet gown.

"My name," she says clearly to the doorman, "is Tenten." She watches him, waiting to see if he will try to turn her away. She halfway expects him to. She is, after all, not one of them. Not one of the court ladies in their perfect court costumes living their perfect court lives. She is Tenten, a village girl. A village girl turned princess for a night.

The doorman waves her in. Tenten looks to the lady in front of her, a lady with eyes like a hawk and chestnut red ringlets of hair that are lustrous to the point of imperfection. She looks at Tenten with pursed lips. _I am more real than you_, Tenten thinks.

--

"Come with me," he says. She looks at him, surprised written clearly on her face.

"Where?" she asks, but by then he is already going, moving across the room with steps sure and firm, each stride as broad as his shoulders. She bites her lip to hide her smile and follows him, pulling her skirts to the side with one hand as she hurries after him.

He leads her outside, through the set of glass doors thrown wide open, and into a courtyard that is bigger than any house she has ever lived in. Here, he swings around abruptly but gracefully to face her. Behind him, there is a fountain. The sweet sound of trickling water tinkles in her ears.

"Tenten," he says. His eyes are a storm, pale white spinning into a dizzying gray. She is hypnotized by those eyes. She could drown in those eyes.

"I –" she begins, not even knowing what she is saying – and suddenly he is moving towards her, closing the distance between them. Before she knows it he is right there, his forehead inches away from her own. His face comes nearer and nearer, until his mouth meets hers.

For a moment time itself ceases to be, and the world is only them.

--

The hall inside is surprisingly bright. Tenten strays aimlessly through the crowd. A golden glow throws itself from the tall white walls. There's a long table set up against one wall, laden with crystal goblets and plates of large purple grapes. There are red apples free of blemishes and ripened pears with a lusty glow. Tenten traces a finger down the shiny smooth skin of an peach. There is no beauty in perfection.

When the first song begins, she stands to the side and sways lightly with the music. By the time the second song starts, the music is singing itself in her head, and she is finished waiting. She will be standing here all day if she wants one of these courtly gentlemen to step away from one of the many eagle-eyed court girls who have staked their claims. A man stands a few paces away, slightly removed from the crowd, and Tenten makes her way towards him.

She meets his eyes before she thinks twice, before she can register that his eyes are the color of the moon and his hair is the color of the night.

_(The prince! That's the prince. She's with…)_

"Um…" she says. Words have fled her mind. Her pulse jumps into her throat. Then she blinks and collects herself and smiles at him, amber eyes flickering in the hall's orange light. "Would you like to dance?" Her smile is bright. Unstrained. It doesn't falter when he just looks at her, and through her, and into her.

The music's already starting. Tenten feels something creep gently up her spine, spreading warmth up her back. Her hand closes around his – after all, he hasn't _refused_. And when she steps back onto the floor, he does not pull away.

--

"Tell me something."

"Hmmm?"

"…Did you…know?"

She tilts her head lazily to look at him. A small smile graces her mouth. "Know what?"

His fingers trace her chin, her collarbone, the shape of her mouth. She wants to close her eyes and give in to touch, but he is looking at her and she can't tear her gaze away from those depthless eyes.

"Know that this would happen," he says. He is serious, she realizes. The line of his jaw is firm, and his hand has stopped moving. "That you would…"

Her eyes shine under the velvet sky. "Fall for you?"

He nods slowly without breaking his gaze.

She leans forward carefully. "No," she murmurs – laughing a little. She lets out a breath and leans her forehead against his chest. At this proximity she can feel the gentle, steady thud of his heart. She listens wordlessly to the beat. It's a comfortable rhythm. She thinks she could fall asleep, listening to his heart.

"Have you ever been in love?" she asks idly.

For a moment he is silent. "Love." he says. She catches a little string of bitterness in his voice underneath a rock-stolid flatness.

Her eyes flicker up to his face. Raising one hand, she touches the fabric covering his shoulder. For the first time that night she feels a touch of stiffness. She wants to say something to reassure him but she hesitates and the moment passes, fleeting into the night.

He looks away. "No."

There's a little sinking silence. Suddenly they are wading through the darkness which surrounds them thickly and heavily like a marsh. Tenten shifts away from him. She swallows a little as she tilts her face up to the sky, trying to reclaim the feel of magic they had sparked only moments before. But there is the feeling that something has been stripped away, leaving pieces of shining silver tarnished and old underneath the shallow surface.

"Well," she says, trying to keep her voice light, "I suppose that makes two of us."

Maybe she was wrong to ask him what she had. Maybe he was wrong to answer her. Maybe she shouldn't have danced with him; they shouldn't have come outside alone; they shouldn't have abandoned themselves to be with each other.

Maybe. Tenten wants to laugh, but it is not a nice laugh. Since when had she started taking stock of the world in maybes? Since when had she started to glance back and look at the roads she could've taken differently? She has always lived in fast, precious moments. Why is tonight any different?

She moves closer to him again, and doesn't quite meet his eyes this time. She leans towards him, one palm against his chest, and kisses him. Deliberately, she loses herself in the tide of feeling. She lets her mouth move by itself.

"Just for tonight," she whispers against his cheek.

_--_

Color whirls in starbursts of red and violet and blue around them, accented with hints of gold and silver. This is not a cheap crowd; this is the royal court. Chandeliers on the ceiling spark with millions of tiny lights. Voices and gazes slip away into the mournful serenade of a cello and a delicate violin soprano.

"So you're the prince," Tenten says conversationally as they turn on the polished marble floor. Her fingers rest lightly on his shoulder, and the hand on her waist is steady.

"Yes," he says. His voice is deep, neutral. It tells her nothing.

"I'm Tenten." She looks at him expectantly. He just stares at her with those silver eyes without saying anything. Behind them and around them, she can feel the weight of people's scrutiny just outside their circle of two. "Your name?" she prompts when he is silent.

His eyebrow tilts just the slightest bit, but not in surprise. Something more like irony. "You don't know?"

Tenten rolls her own gaze to the sky. "Of course I know. It doesn't matter. Introduction is…" Her voice trails. She wants to say polite, but somehow that word dies on its way out. This whole world here, inside the palace, is built on politeness and manners. There are only undercurrent of envy and maybe longing. It's too perfect here.

He doesn't wait for her to finish anyway. "Neji," he says, and she flashes him a quick smile, simple and brilliant.

"Nice to meet you, Neji."

"…Nice to meet you…Tenten."

He isn't like she would've expected. He doesn't attempt to make conversation, to say something quick and witty but cutting and probing like the others she has seen tonight. Instead, their feet slide a steady rhythm across the floor, and she finds herself watching him without speaking. The figure he cuts in the black jacket he's wearing; the angle of his chin. The paleness of his skin and the dark of his hair. The blinding silver storm of his eyes. The way he moves, powerful and graceful at the same time.

She represses a small smile. Her first ball and she's dancing with the prince.

The song fades too quickly when the violin's last note warbles away and floats up to the chandeliered ceiling. Their gentle whirl comes to a halt. Tenten blinks slightly as voices reorient themselves in her ears. She takes her hand off Neji's shoulder as he drops his hand away from her waist, leaving her standing perfectly balanced and alone, conscious of the support that's gone from her side.

"Thank you," Tenten says. He nods slightly and turns away. She doesn't expect him to look back (She's only a village girl in a silk dress, the voices whisper, Not a princess, not even for a night) so she's surprised when he slants a piercing glance at her over one shoulder.

"Sit with me."

She surprises herself more when she nods. "Alright."

--

She is startled when the bells begin to toll – so startled that she breaks their kiss abruptly and gasps, her fingers fisting in his shirt. Her eyes dart almost wildly around the courtyard. It is another second before she understands what she is hearing.

She pulls back from him; standing, turning her back. She faces the palace with its proud turrets, tall walls rising and rising and rising above her. Casting shadows over them both, despite the fact that they are some distance away.

"You asked me if I was ever in love," he says suddenly, before she can speak.

Her mind scrambles. "What? I –" The bells toll a second time. The sound is loud and reverberating. It rolls over the palace grounds, announcing the hour to each blade of grass. She stops mid sentence. "You said you weren't."

"Not before."

Her stomach plummets to her feet, her heart leaping into her throat at the same time. She whirls on him, fighting to keep her expression unchanged. She doesn't let herself think about what he just said. She doesn't let herself begin to wonder what he means. She, a village girl – and him, a prince? Never. Tonight is only one night where they have both stepped out of their normal boundaries. Tomorrow they will return to where they each belong. "What is that supposed to mean?" she demands levelly. She avoids his eyes.

The third toll. He doesn't wait for the sound to die out before he speaks. She has to listen hard to make out his words over the echo of sound. "You didn't feel it, tonight?" His tone is just as even as hers, but she can sense in undercurrent of sharpness beneath the calm.

Tenten laughs a little. It sounds forced, even to her ears. "Liar," she says. Her voice is blithe. "You aren't in love with me."

The bells toll again. Then there is a momentary silence, and the silence stretches heavily like a blanket that smothers them both. He raises an eyebrow. "Is that what you think?"

She doesn't want to look at him but she does it anyway. It's hard to look into those eyes without losing herself. She stares at him. The fingers of her right hand tangle in the fabric of her skirt nervously, skittering for something to do. She is losing grasp of everything. The wind is blowing and blowing and tearing everything away. Her night at the ball – her carefree, lighthearted first time in the palace – is falling to pieces at her feet. The fifth toll sounds. Then the sixth toll.

She needs to leave.

"I should go," Tenten says.

He looks at her. "Where."

Where, indeed. What exactly does she have to go back to? She came here because she nothing to lose, and now she is running away from anything she might have gained. Tenten shakes her head. But what has she gained, anyway? A night of dancing with the prince has led to what? They are just two strangers, after all. He doesn't know who she is. To him - to the court and royalty and the palace, her kind of people are less than nothing.

"Away," she says. It is the only thing she can think of to say that is true.

He moves forward so quickly that she nearly trips backward over the hem of her dress trying to get away. But he is faster and stronger, so she is not entirely surprised when his grip catches her wrist. His hands are surprisingly calloused for a prince. She yanks her arm from his grasp. Behind them, bells continue to ring. She's lost track of the number of times they've rung now.

"Stay," he commands. He moves closer to her, until their faces are centimeters apart. She can feel her heart traitorously ricocheting faster and faster in her ribcage. This close to him, she can see him so clearly. She stares at the curve of his cheekbone and the pale glow of his skin. She looks into the blinding storm of his eyes.

"I can't," she murmurs. She tears herself away. She doesn't dare look behind her. Wind whistles past as she runs, stinging her cheeks. It blurs her sight. She hurries off the paved path winding into some royal gardens and pushes through a row of hedges that block the palace grounds from outside view. By the time she tumbles out into the public road bordering the castle, she is breathing hard from the effort of not looking back.

It isn't until she steps out into the road and her right foot lands flat against the solid earth that she realizes she's lost one of the heels she was wearing that evening. She can feel the dirt under her toes. Her left shoe is still on, dappled silver and glinting up at her in the moonlight, but there's no sign of her right one.

Tenten turns to look at the stolid green hedge she has just forced her way through. It stands unmoving under the scrutiny of her gaze.

She sighs. She isn't going back into the royal grounds to just get a shoe. Instead, she takes off her left heel as well, dangling it loosely from her hand as she starts down the road away from the castle. After all, she's plenty used to wandering with bare feet. She despises wearing shoes during the summer, when she could run through the grass barefoot.

And just like that she is sliding back into her old self: the familiar Tenten, the daughter of a villager who'd died when she was five; the beloved orphan girl of her hometown.

She directs her thoughts deliberately away from the man she has just left behind as she continues down her path alone. Before she reaches the end of the road the bells have ceased their ringing, leaving the world in silence once more.


End file.
